Agape
by Elizabeth1
Summary: Falling backwards leads to stepping forwards, sometimes


Title: Agape  
Author: Elizabeth  
E-mail: uhmidont@theglobe.com  
Spoilers: Through "Meet the Dupes"   
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.   
Distribution: Please ask.  
November 18 2000  
**  
  
Possibility  
  
**  
  
Maria realized that she didn't want it--whatever it was--to end as she caught herself pushing her pancakes around her plate in a vain attempt to slow time down. Once she was finished, he'd pay and then they'd leave. She'd have to go to school, she'd have to back to her world and she didn't want to, she was...she sat up, put her fork down. "I'm having a good time."  
  
Brody smiled. A sudden, wide, almost giddy-looking smile. His eyes lit up when he smiled and they were so clear and so happy. He really liked being with her--just her agreeing to eat pancakes with him had made him happy. This--just sitting, talking, getting to know each other--it had made him happy. She'd made his day.  
  
Her comment would have elicited a grunt from Michael or maybe a "You gonna finish that?" punctuated by a knife gesturing at her last pancake. If she was really lucky, she might have gotten a half-smile and a nod. And that would have made her day. It would have made her month.  
  
It would have made her eyes shine like Brody's.  
  
"I'm really glad," he said. "You know, you have a beautiful smile."  
  
She said "Thank you" and thought how nice it was to hear that, how nice it was to be complimented without complicated negotiations or because of tears. How nice it was to be noticed just for herself and just because. She picked up her fork again, started segmenting off portions of pancake into tiny pieces. "Did you know that I sing?"  
  
"Really? I'd love to hear you--I mean, if you're ever, maybe I could..." His face turned red.   
  
"I'd like that." And she realized that she would, and she smiled.   
  
It was a beautiful smile.  
  
**  
  
Falling Backwards Leads To Stepping Forward, Sometimes  
  
**  
  
He drove the speed limit.  
  
She noticed that but it wasn't till later that she wondered why she noticed it at all. The world was ending and they were all blinking out of existence. Alex was gone. Her mom was gone. Liz sat in the back seat, worrying about Max, and then poof!...gone. And in the midst of all that--and it was horrible, there was no doubt about it, just the memory of it was enough to make her face feel all hot and flushed and her fingers go numb with cold--she noticed that Kyle drove the speed limit.   
  
The only reason she started thinking about it was because it didn't make sense. One of Liz's best dating stories revolved around the time she and Kyle were out one night last summer and they'd gotten pulled over because Kyle was driving 75 by the hospital. "He was driving like a maniac," Liz always said, "I swear, Maria, my hand was welded to the door---I was afraid that if I didn't hold on to something I'd get whiplash! And then we got pulled over right by the hospital--I remember seeing people staring at us as they walked by. It was so embarrassing! And then the cop said he had to give Kyle a ticket because he'd let him go twice before. Twice! God, Kyle is the worst driver. Who gets a ticket for speeding by a hospital, for heaven's sake?" This story was usually followed with a glance in Max's direction, though lately, Liz didn't even want to talk about Max (which made her mention of him before she vanished most strange, yet another thing Maria had put on her "must talk about with Liz" list). The end of the story was always, "Max is a really good driver. I always feel safe with him."  
  
But with the end of the world looming--surely a call for fast driving if there ever was one--Kyle drove the speed limit. And afterwards, when whatever voodoo job the Skins had done on the town had been lifted, (and here Maria always felt a surge of pride--*I did it, I saved us all*) he gave her back her car keys. She took a step back away from the keys automatically, used to a certain person who always drove when they went out, his hands always grabbing the car keys away from her as soon as he saw them. Kyle finally ended up putting the keys in her hand and giving her an odd look. "I think we can trust you," he said, "Besides, it's your car, after all." He smiled at her then and she felt for Liz's hand, groping for support that she suddenly felt she needed.   
  
**  
  
Sometimes Michael borrowed her car. Usually it was to drive Courtney around, though sometimes it was Isabel or once, some old guy who ate three banana splits and called her "Sweet Cheeks." Michael always changed the radio stations. He always moved the seat back and left it there, so when she got in her feet wouldn't even come close to the brake or gas pedal. He never put gas in her car and frequently brought it back to her with the fuel light on.   
  
He once stole her car (with her in it no less) and it was up to her to save his ass when a trooper pulled them over. After the cop left, he looked at her and the hesitancy and thanks in his face made her stomach twist and her heart spasmed suddenly, painfully and she thought *This is it. This is what I've been waiting for.*  
  
They drove on and he started to speed again and even though she told him the engine couldn't take it he didn't listen to her.  
  
And yet she loved him.   
  
**  
  
She'd never seen Michael fight. Well, not really--she'd seen him spar with Max but that was always with words and he didn't usually win. She had no desire to watch his fights with Isabel. They always left her feeling drained and stupid and frightened, reminded her that Michael was so good at pushing her away. He'd used his powers and killed someone once, an event that left him shaken and drove him to push away from her so hard that she felt her heart bleed for the entire summer. She always imagined that Michael would be a fighter--that he'd be very good at being physical, that he'd move with a sort of grace that would transcend his earthbound self and show how not-of-this-world he truly was.   
  
Kyle is a Buddhist, or at least has something to do with Buddhism. His line up by the sign startled the hell out of her. Buddha forgive me? She doesn't know anyone who admits to being religious. The idea of Kyle with some sort of interior life was almost as discomforting as what happened when she saw what he did next.   
  
She'd made the mistake of going to a few football games with Lizzie the year before last. They were boring, boring, boring. Guys ran around a field, up and down, back and forth, knocking each other down and then springing right back up again. Beside her, Liz had screamed as if something exciting was going on and had clutched her arm, whispered "Look at Kyle move!! Isn't he *amazing*?"   
  
She'd nodded and said "Uh-huh" and privately thought that a helmet was a mighty crappy look for Kyle and that all things being equal, he was still the same kid who'd thrown up before the Christmas pageant in second grade and ruined the Baby Jesus that Maria (who got to play Mary, for the first and only time--usually Liz was Mary) was supposed to hold.  
  
But the day the world almost ended, she finally saw what Liz was talking about. And Liz was wrong. Kyle didn't "move"--he was more graceful than that. She'd watched him--the way he twisted his body and thought that she was watching something almost beautiful. It made her feel stupid afterwards, but she knew what and how she'd felt. She'd seen people get beat up before--she was in high school, after all, but watching Kyle that day she forgot that she was opposed to violence for a moment and cheered inside every time he landed a blow.   
  
And then afterwards he'd turned to her and vanished, leaving only the sound of her name behind.   
  
**  
  
Sometimes Michael would take her out to eat. He liked to go to Senor Chow's because he had a thing for their bean burritos. He'd paid once--very carefully counting out money in front of her, as if to make sure she knew that he was paying; that he was proving her wrong, that she didn't *always* pay.  
  
Once, right before the world almost ended, she was walking home from work one night because the Jetta was in the shop again. She passed by Senor Chow's. Michael was inside and she smiled, thought about going in and saying hi to him, maybe even pay for the bean burrito she knew he was eating.   
  
Someone brushed passed her and walked inside. Through the glass window, Maria saw a blond head move towards Michael. Through the slowly closing door, Maria heard "Michael! What are you doing here?"  
  
She couldn't hear what Michael said because the door had closed. But she saw Courtney, standing next to him, say something else. She saw Michael shrug his shoulders. She saw Courtney make a move, like she was going to sit down across from him.  
  
It was Isabel all over again only a million times worse because Courtney wasn't supposed to be his destiny. She walked home and lit candles in her room and chanted a mediation her mother had given her for stress.   
  
She knew that if she'd gone inside there would have been a moment where his eyes would have flickered because he would have been sorry that he'd hurt her. She also knew that he wouldn't have asked Courtney to leave.  
  
And yet she loved him.   
  
**  
  
She and her mom went out to dinner the day after the world almost ended. There aren't a ton of restaurants in town--in fact, there are maybe four that Maria knows of that serve food that can be eaten by people who aren't tourists--so they ended up going to the Sunflower like they almost always did. Her mom was a vegetarian for a while a few years ago and sometimes she feels guilty for eating meat. When she does, Maria always tries to get a meal at the Sunflower out of her mom's meat guilt. The Sunflower makes an excellent cheese quesadillas that Maria has never been able to replicate at home.   
  
They got to the restaurant around seven--Maria had gotten home late because she'd spent two hours after school at the Lift-Off gas station, arguing with the mechanics about the work that the Jetta needed. The mechanics wanted to replace all the constant velocity joints, saying that although only one was broken, the rest were bound to go soon. She'd finally won the argument to replace only the one that was broken but pointing out that they had a better chance of getting paid for the one than they did for four. There was a lot of grumbling and dour muttering from the mechanic, but Maria just glared right back at him.   
  
The Sunflower was pretty crowded, but they managed to get a table over in the corner, just like they both liked. Maria wondered why her mom was in such a good mood--usually she was super cranky if she didn't eat by 6:30. But that night her mother was animated and smiling and it was almost enough to make Maria suspicious. She had also noticed that her mother was wearing lipstick and that was something she only did if she had a date, not if she was just going out to eat with her daughter.   
  
"Mom?" Her mother smiled at her and told the waitress that they needed a few minutes to look over the menu.   
  
Now she knew something was going on. She hoped that her mother wasn't going to tell her that money was extra tight this month and that she'd be working at the Tex-Mex Cantina down in Dexter. Maria hated it when her mom did that because it hurt her to see her mom so tired and exhausted and run down from just trying to earn enough money for them to survive. It was times like that when she really hated her father. But she was cut off before she could say anything.   
  
"Jim!"  
  
Maria turned around, following the direction of her mother's gaze and sure enough, there was the Sheriff, tucked into a booth. His hat was on the table in front of him and his answering smile to her mother was big and wide and Maria did even bother to suppress her groan. It was great that the Sheriff turned out to be a nice guy and all, but she still didn't like him dating her mom. He was always breaking dates with her and even though Maria knew it was for alien-related stuff, it still didn't make it ok. It was her mother they were talking about, after all.  
  
"I'm just going over to say hello to him" her mom said and Maria looked at her, drew a breath to tell her to stop, that they'd come to the restaurant to have dinner, just the two of them. That she kind of wanted to talk about boys and stuff. That maybe she wanted to drop a hint or two about how she'd done something big and important and although Liz had been super nice about it, saying wonderful things; and even Max had said some stuff too, it still wasn't quite enough, she was still waiting for someone else to tell her that she'd done a good job.   
  
But she looked at her mom, at her shining and happy eyes, at her smiling mouth, stretched and wide and covered with her "date" lipstick, and said, "Ok."  
  
**  
  
Back when they were worried about the Sheriff, afraid that he might be an enemy, Michael used to ask her about him.  
  
"Is it serious with him and your Mom?"  
  
She shrugged and he set an arm around her. She let herself have a tiny, hidden smile. She loved these moments where Michael gave her something that let her know he cared. "I don't know."  
  
Beside her, he shifted and she felt his fingers trace along her shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said. "If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have to worry about this kind of stuff, would you?"  
  
"I'm not sorry," she said and she turned towards him, lifted her mouth up for his kiss.  
  
"I am," he said, and he kissed her. What he said stung and was soothing at the same time.   
  
When they separated, pulling apart for air, she rested her head against his neck for a moment, breathing him in. He didn't pull away and she knew he wasn't sorry enough.  
  
And she loved him.  
  
**  
  
She watched her mom walk over to the Sheriff's table and let out a little sigh. The waitress came back and Maria told her that she needed another minute.  
  
She stared at the table for a while and then started counting the checks on the tablecloth. The chair across from her rattled and she looked up, expecting her mother. "Are you ready to order?"  
  
"Hell, yes. I was ready to order when we got here fifteen minutes ago. But Captain Love over there decided he wanted to wait for a while. I think he was waiting for your mom to show up."  
  
Kyle was sitting across from her. Which meant--she turned and sure enough, her mother had sat across from the Sheriff. "What are they, fourteen? Why don't they just go on a normal date like normal people?"  
  
Kyle picked up a fork and started rolling it under and between his fingers. "I suppose because my dad works every weekend and he figured this was his chance to see your mom. He never wants to eat here. I should have known something was up when he suggested it this afternoon. I just thought..." he trailed off.  
  
"Thought what?" Now she knew why her mother was so quick to suggest the Sunflower.   
  
The waitress came back and Maria noticed that Kyle looked almost relieved not to have to answer her question. She ordered what she usually did--cheese quesadillas, no guacamole, and Kyle ordered some sort of vegetable burger. The waitress made a really bad joke about how Maria had traded up for a better looking table partner, which left her feeling annoyed and somehow embarrassed. Kyle rolled his eyes and said "What? And I didn't?" which made her smile.   
  
She looked over at her mom again. She didn't look like she was going to be leaving the booth anytime soon. "So," she said, turning back towards Kyle. "Vegetable burgers and Buddhism. What's up with that? Trying to restore order to the universe or something?"  
  
He stopped flipping silverware around. "Maybe."  
  
"Oh."  
  
He took a deep breath and it sounded suspiciously like the kind of breathing that she did when she was trying to center herself--inhaling through the nose, a deep slow intake of air that was supposed to give you time to find some sort of peace. "It's no big deal, ok? Let's talk about silverware. Which utensil is more important, knife or fork?"  
  
"What?" She looked at him closely this time, wondering what the hell he was talking about. He actually turned red under her gaze and she realized with a start that he was serious--not about the silverware question, but about trying to restore order to his universe. Kyle Valenti had found something to believe in. How odd.  
  
"Knife or fork? If you could only have one utensil to use, which one would it be?"  
  
"Fork." She knew what it was like to believe in something that no one else could really understand.  
  
He smiled at her and relief was apparent on his face. "Me too."   
  
**  
  
The whole remedial science thing wasn't really her fault. It wasn't like she didn't try when she was in junior high, but Mr. DeMarco was so boring that she couldn't stay awake in class and so she always ended up getting Ds on her tests because she'd slept through all the important stuff like discussions of igneous rock.  
  
So high school found her in remedial science classes. The first year--9th grade--it was chemistry. Last year it was biology. Michael was in her class, though she didn't notice him till after the whole Liz-got-shot-and-Max-saved-her-life-and-oh-guess-what-he-was-an-alien thing happened. Kyle was in her class too and she always sat far away from him because he was doing the Liz dating thing, which she didn't get because Kyle just seemed like--well, like a dumb jock--to her and she always figured Lizzie would fall for someone with a little more depth to them. She got assigned to be his lab partner and after Liz dumped him he never spoke to her during lab, just sat next to her and drew pictures of footballs and basketballs and wrote his name in large capital letters in his notebook.   
  
That suited her just fine, because that way she could watch Michael who, when he came to class, always managed to somehow do every experiment perfectly and would sometimes stare at her. Once, right after that whole December Crashdown thing, he'd walked by her when she was sitting at the lab table, trying to figure out how she could dissect a frog without actually cutting it, and whispered "Eraser room. Five minutes." That was a great moment and it's still a pretty good memory.  
  
This year, she got put in remedial physics, which seemed very stupid to her--how could any part of physics ever be described as remedial? But that's what she got--3rd period everyday with Ms. Lewis and twenty-five of her fellow science incompetents. Michael wasn't in her class, he'd somehow managed to trade up to "regular" physics, but Kyle was and the first day he came into class she watched as he looked over at his buddies, all seated in the right corner, and an expression of something--dismay maybe, or even resignation, crossed his face.   
  
He wasn't assigned to be her lab partner, but he sat at the table next to her. Sometimes when she was got tired of Henry, her current lab partner who hadn't bathed since approximately 1994, and his smell, she looked over at Kyle's table. This year he still drew in his notebook but what he drew looked like symbols or squares and mostly he wrote lines of cramped text that he always ripped out of his notebook and yet never turned in.   
  
One day, a month or so before the world almost ended, she got up to move away from Henry, who seemed particularly intent on sitting as close to her as possible, and got a look at what Kyle was writing.  
  
*"All created things perish."  
Whoever realizes this transcends pain;  
this is the clear path.  
  
"All created things are sorrow."  
Whoever realizes this transcends pain;  
this is the clear path.  
  
"All forms are unreal."  
Whoever realizes this transcends pain;  
this is the clear path.*  
  
He didn't even notice that she was watching him, he was so intent on what he was writing. She started to say something to him--maybe she would have teased him, maybe it would have been something serious--but then Michael walked by the classroom and his eyes met hers for a moment and she forgot everything because she loved him.  
  
**  
  
Their food came, after a couple of minutes of conversation. At first it was awkward conversation, filled with pauses and then quick rushes of questions. "HeydidyoudothehomeworkinHistoryclass?" But then they both looked at each other and Maria said, "This is stupid. I've known you since I was four." And Kyle laughed and they talked about kindergarten teachers and elementary school field trips and the questions came out at a normal rate.   
  
While they ate, Kyle gave her a running commentary on the action over at the other table. "He's reaching for her hand. Go Dad! No wait, she didn't see him and she moved her hand so now he's pretending he's...drinking out of her glass? And he says I need to get out more."  
  
And then, after they'd both finished and Maria had turned around (only once) to try to signal her mother that yes, she was still in the restaurant and that she was going to need a ride home, Kyle said, "So, how's Michael?"  
  
She looked down at her empty plate and then up at him. "He's fine."  
  
Kyle nodded.   
  
She took a deep breath. It might feel better to tell someone. "He never said thank you. You know, for saving his butt and all. No one did. Well, Liz did and Max did, but they don't count cause they're always like that." She paused. "That's sounds stupid, doesn't it? Forget I said anything."  
  
He shook his head. "It's not stupid. And I know I'm not Michael but...you saved us all. Thank you." He leaned forward when he said it and the intensity of his gaze startled her. His eyes were on her, only her.   
  
She could feel herself blushing and there was something almost alive in the air around them. Something like a possibility or a question and Maria almost said something.  
  
But in the end, her mother picked that moment to return to the table, all smiles and glances back at the Sheriff and she didn't say anything, just nodded when Kyle said he'd see her in school tomorrow.  
  
**  
  
Second period, the day after the day the world almost ended. Literature with Mr. DeWalt, the man who seemed to think spitting while talking somehow made his points about Beowulf that much stronger. Michael was in her class and she knew her steps were quickening as she walked down the hall.   
  
He was there, inside the classroom, tucked into his desk in the back corner of the room. He looked at her but didn't quite meet her eyes. She walked over and sat down next to him. "Hey."  
  
"Hey."  
  
He was drawing in his notebook and she wondered what he was sketching. Once in a while, she caught a glimpse of a drawing of her and she was always amazed by how beautiful he made her. She liked knowing that Michael saw beauty when he looked at her.   
  
After she and Liz and Kyle got back to Roswell, they found the four aliens. Max and Isabel and Tess and Michael were all happy to see them and happy to have things back to normal. But Max wouldn't look at Isabel and Tess looked frightened and Michael....Michael seemed lost somehow.   
  
She told the story about what she'd done and they all smiled. And then Michael said "Courtney's dead" in a strange, almost flat voice and she stared at him and realized that there were tears in his eyes. "She killed herself so the Skins wouldn't find out about the granolith."  
  
Liz made sympathetic sounds and Maria heard her own voice say, "Michael, I'm so sorry," and she knew that she even meant it but she was also thinking that now she could never compete with Courtney because Courtney had lived to find Michael, had died for him, had done all the things that women were supposed to never do but always got them remembered by men when they did. Courtney was a martyr. Courtney was a saint. How could she compete with that?  
  
A corner of Michael's drawing was visible to her. She could see the high peak of a forehead and the eyes. They were wider than hers and darker and there was an expression in them--one of tenderness and worry and longing.   
  
It was not her face he drew.  
  
She turned away and stared blindly down at her notebook. It was to be expected, she thought. Of course Michael would mourn her, she told herself.   
  
She was strong. She'd get through this. And then when Michael was better, she'd be there, waiting for him.   
  
She looked back up and around the room. Liz was up front, studiously getting ready to take notes and carefully avoiding Max's eyes. Isabel was sitting over by the door and she looked desperately bored and desperately lonely.   
  
Kyle was sitting over on the other side of the room, almost as far back as she was. His friends were talking to him but he appeared to be ignoring them because when she looked at him, he smiled at her---not a secret smile, not a Michael smile, but a real smile.   
  
She could hear him saying her name before he vanished. *Maria.* She remembered what he said to her in the restaurant--how he spoke not because he had to, but because he wanted to. Because he believed in what he said. *You saved us all. Thank you.*   
  
He believed in her name, in who she was, in what she could do. He believed in her.  
  
And she loved herself enough--she believed in herself enough-- to smile back at him.  
  
END  
  
-------  
  
Agape, in English, means amazement or astonishment. But in Greek (well, ancient Greek at least), Agape means a perfect kind of love that is at once a fondness, a transcending of the particular, and a passion without the necessity of reciprocity  
  
*Quoted text is from the Dhammapada, or "Sayings of Buddha" and was translated by S. Beck.   
  



End file.
